


Ant Foolin' Me

by Tintenfischie



Category: Fallout: New Vegas, Rawhide (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fallout, Bugs & Insects, Bureaucracy, Cowboys, Gen, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 01:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15085730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tintenfischie/pseuds/Tintenfischie
Summary: The drovers are familiar with facing off against the mutated beasts of the Wastelands, but it’s not the wildlife that poses the biggest problem for them at the Mojave Outpost.





	Ant Foolin' Me

**Author's Note:**

> If Fallout can name quests with shitty puns after old songs, I can do the same for my story.
> 
> Also, super special thanks to Elfbert and anintelligentoctopus for helping out with ideas for some of the concepts in this fic! Y'all rock! ♥

Within sight, rising up from the approaching horizon, was the surest sign they'd arrived at what was once the state line: a towering monument to the merging of the old Desert Rangers of Nevada and the NCR. Two giant metal figures, one from each faction, locked in a permanent handshake. While this hardly marked a departure from hardship, it did mark the beginning of more familiar territory.

Beyond the monument was the Mojave Outpost. A checkpoint of sorts, every caravan and brahmin drive passed through the place on their way to New Vegas. Aside from the massive statues, there was little to make the place stand out from any other old world ruins, salvaged for modern use. Crooked lines of dilapidated vehicles made their way along the cracked road, standing still beneath a rusted, old sign that read ‘Prepare to Stop’. They had been stopped for centuries, the long gone motorized traffic replaced with those on foot or horse.

Favor and Pete rode their horses toward the Outpost, having rode ahead from rest of the herd a little ways back. While things like cars and trucks may have died out, the checkpoint’s purpose certainly lived on, and they would have to check in with the NCR before they would be able to herd the beeves through.

It was usually over and done with fairly quickly. A few military police would do a cursory search of the wagons, find nothing of interest, and let them move along, only keeping a vague eye on things as they herded through. Brahmin weren’t likely to be Legion spies, so little attention was paid, which suited Favor just fine. It meant a quick process and no time lost.

It didn’t hurt that, on occasion, one of the older officers might recognize Favor, sometimes even Pete. There were a fair share of old war stories about Veteran Ranger Nolan, though thanks to the armoured helmets they wore, few would recognize him by face. Usually, it was only other rangers. That also never hurt, as far as either were concerned.

Reaching the small buildings that made up the barracks and headquarters of the Outpost, they tied their mounts to what used to be a telephone pole. Pete nudged Favor’s side with his elbow.

“Don’t look now, but you got a couple of troopers eyein’ you up.” He whispered.

Without lifting his head, Favor glanced up and saw two young NCR police staring conspicuously their way. They were just too far away to make out words, but they were indeed talking. The way they leaned close to one another as they spoke appeared more curious than suspicious.

“Bet they just never seen anything like a cyberhorse before.” Favor said as he patted Butch’s metal flank. They made their way over to the soldiers, who quickly straightened up. Favor was hardly in the mood to be bothered by whatever they may have actually been whispering about. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon, sir.” One trooper said. Her slightly stilted speaking cadence was something that only other military personnel would be able to detect. It suggested she was fresh from a too-rushed basic training. Most likely, both of them were, and this was their first duty station, which, as far as first stations went, was not the worst they could have been assigned. Far enough away from Legion camps and Fiend hangouts, it worked as a little pocket of relative safety.

“At ease.” Favor said, trying to keep his tone light. He introduced himself and Pete, then inquired about where to check in. “We’ve pushed brahmin this route of times, but it seems like there’s a new procedure every time we pass through.”

Both the troopers laughed, evidently comfortable enough to do so now. “That’s kind of how it is for everything here, yeah.” This time, the other soldier spoke. He continued on. “You’ll have to go see Ranger Jackson, at headquarters.”

Inside, it was the same old, familiar office set up that everyone in the military grew to know so well, whether they wanted to or not. An officer at the front desk directed them down a hallway. The doors were without name markers, and Favor suspected that indicated frequent rotation of command at this particular post. An open door at the end of the hallway led them to Ranger Jackson’s desk, where he was busy looking over a stack of forms. He put this task on hold when he saw the drovers.

“Afternoon, gentleman.” He looked at Favor first, then to Pete. “Well I’ll be damned, Ranger Nolan!”

“Just Pete these days.” He grinned. “Putting my skills to use as a trail scout, now. This here’s our trail boss, Gil Favor.”

“Favor, there’s a name I know. Good to finally be able to put a face to the officer who did so much in our fight against the Brotherhood. I heard talk you’d become a trail boss. It figures I’d only get to meet you once I got saddled with this impressive duty station.” He waved a hand over his desk, motioning over the many files and folders organized across it. “I s’pose that’s something your current career has over being an officer.”

“Well, can’t say I miss it all that much.” Favor said. “Drovin’ doesn’t exactly come with much glory, but at least I don’t got to haul a desk around with me.”

“Freedom is a hard earned benefit, and if anyone’s earned it, it’s you folks. Wouldn’t have gotten away with those under NCR regulations, either.” Ranger Jackson looked to several markings on Favor’s upper arm. Patterned across his skin were all the various brahmin brands he’d pushed so far. “All drovers get those, these days?”

“Only the one’s who make it through the Mojave trail and have somethin’ to show for it. Also comes in handy to keep folks from mistakin’ us for raiders.” Favor wasn’t the only drover to get such markings, and although it was far from required, most were eager to have some of their own, by the end of the drive. “Gettin’ down to business, we’d like to get this herd movin’ soon as possible.”

The friendly smile Ranger Jackson had worn disappeared and in it’s place came a stony-faced military bearing. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we're not allowing passage north for the time being.” Jackson saw the looks on the drovers' faces and quickly explained. “We’ve got one of the worst infestations of giant ants I've ever seen. It's not safe for caravans, and it's definitely not safe for hundreds of brahmin. That stomping could draw the whole colony out.”

“Ants?” Pete shook his head. “Rangers these days can't take care of a few ants?”

Favor quickly looked to Pete, who was smiling, but Favor knew enough to detect something other than good humour behind it. It seemed Ranger Jackson knew enough to spot it, too. His shoulders tensed when he replied.

“For one thing, it’s more than a few; you must’ve missed the part where I mentioned a ‘whole colony’. Second, we're short on personnel and stretched thin as it is, fighting off the Legion all over the Mojave. All we got here is new recruits, barely out of training. If you'd like to offer assistance, the NCR would welcome your re-enlistment, former Ranger Nolan.”

Favor cut off whatever retort Pete might have had next. “Our job right now is to get that herd movin'. We’re running a tight schedule, and we’re prepared to do whatever it takes to get to Freeside on time. That includes helpin’ out with that ant problem.”

Ranger Jackson sighed. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for action, but due to regulations, we can’t let civilians do anything like that”

“Regulations?” Favor’s voice rose slightly in pitch. “What kind of regulations we talkin’ about here?”

“The kind that say the NCR is not to allow civilians into an area that has been deemed hazardous. It’s for the safety of citizens and is a matter to be handled exclusively by active duty military personnel.” Ranger Jackson spoke like he had memorized every NCR law in the book. Favor didn’t doubt he actually had. He _did_ doubt the man would budge from his position on the matter.

“All right.” Favor said. “Guess we’ve got no choice but to concede.”

“I appreciate your understanding. We’ll inform you soon as your herd is in the clear to go through.” No more had to be said. After a brief salute, the drovers left.

The second they were out the door, Pete looked to Favor. “Never in my life have I ever seen you concede to something like that so fast before.”

“Neither has anyone else. Pete, I’ve gotta get back to the men, explain to everyone what’s goin’ on. In the mean time, think you could get a look at these ants? See how many there are?”

Pete smiled. “Sure, I can.”

“Good. Oh but uh, don’t get too close. Cross that fence and I don’t know who’d come down harder on you, the ants or the army. Let’s not give those new trooper’s a chance to test out how well they remember their weapon training.”

“Got it, boss.” With that, Pete wasted no time heading toward the nearby hills. Between his binoculars and Pip-Boy, it wouldn’t be difficult to get a clear picture of the situation. Favor knew that if Ranger Nolan had been able to track down and take out high-ranking Frumentarii, former Ranger Pete would find no challenge in this task. That wasn’t where his worry lay at the moment.

–--

If Ranger Jackson had disliked giving bad news, Gil Favor absolutely hated it. Before him stood the entire drive, awaiting his word. He felt like he, himself, was once again an officer prepared to give orders to his troops.

“All right, listen up. NCR’s closed the road to all travel, thanks to a giant ant infestation. According to authorities at the Outpost, we’re gonna be stuck here until further notice.” There was a predictable clamour of dismay and surprise from everyone. Favor spoke up over the noise. “I know, I know! I’m still workin’ on a way out of this mess, but in the mean time, everyone’s to keep watch over the herd. Keep doin’ your job.” Favor began to walk away, the grumbling continuing amongst the drovers, Rowdy breaking from the rest as he ran to catch up.

“What’s keeping us from going down that road and blasting a bunch of ants?”

“NCR regulations.” Favor said, his voice flat. Rowdy looked like he was ready to go on a rant, which Favor was in no mood for. “Look, I said I’m workin’ on it. The place is lousy for grazin’, and every minute we spend here is a minute wasted. I won’t let us stay here any longer than we have to.”

“All right, boss. I trust you know what you’re doin’.” Rowdy’s frown didn’t exactly suggest he understood, but as long as he trusted, that’s what mattered. Now, all Favor had to do was make sure he proved that trust worth having.

–--

Rowdy watched Favor head back to the barracks, wondering if he was going to take a second stab at convincing whoever was in charge to let them through. Maybe work out some kind of deal. Back at camp, there was plenty of complaining from the rest of the drovers. It was mostly about the NCR and the nonsense regulations, being stuck at the Outpost, everyone wondering the exact same thing Rowdy had been. Over by the horses, Jesús looked over the scrub that grew in the nearby area. Or rather, the lack of scrub. Rowdy knew exactly what he was worried about.

“If there’s not enough feed for the brahmin, there won’t be enough for the horses.” Jesús stroked along the mangy neck of one of the radhorses. He crouched down to pick a branch from a little shrub, but it was so dry he doubted even the animals would eat it, unless they were on the very brink of death. “I hope Señor Favor can convince those soldiers to let us through. The animals won’t starve within a day, but...”

He didn’t want to finish that sentence, and Rowdy didn’t blame him. There was no way Favor would let it come to that, not over something as flimsy as regulations. No one exactly liked going against the NCR, not when they could avoid it. But in this case, it seemed unavoidable.

“Mr. Favor’s got a plan, he told me so. It’s just a matter of workin’ it out. Fixin’ the details.” He knew that while Favor wasn’t one to go out of his way to piss off the NCR, the drive took precedence over all else. More often than not, that worked out for them. Hopefully, it would in this case, too.

–--

Favor walked along the dusty remnants of a path toward the barracks, one building in particular that was open to the public and happened to be a bar. He didn’t plan on wallowing in his own frustrations, not for long, but he also wasn’t opposed to getting a drink while he sorted out his thoughts.

Inside, the bar was sparse, with the closest thing to decorations being the NCR propaganda posters slapped here and there along the walls. Sparser yet was the population, which appeared to be the bartender and one other patron. Not exactly a cheery atmosphere, but it did mean no waiting to get his drink. All he wanted at the moment was to drink his whiskey and figure out just what the hell he should do.

“Caravaner or drover?” The sudden question made Favor look up. Sitting at the end of the bar was a woman, clearly not NCR. From her worn hat to the rifle strapped across her back, she looked like she would be right at home on the drive.

“Drover. Trail boss, in fact. Name’s Gil Favor. You?”

“Name’s Rose of Sharon Cassidy, you can call me Cass. I run a caravan, though these days, that mostly means getting jammed up with bullshit like this.” She motioned toward the door, and presumably the troubles that lay on the other side of it. “Thanks to one Ranger Jackson, it looks like this jam’s gonna last until _further notice_.”

“The man sure does love his regulations.” Favor glanced back at the bartender. She was a civilian employee, one who seemed to hold no interest in their conversation and kept busy cleaning glasses. He turned back to Cass. “You ever had the good fortune of dealin’ with Jackson before?”

She downed the last of her whiskey. “Only one other trip before this one. The Outpost used to be an _outpost_. Now it’s a damn road block of bureaucracy. Of all the old world traditions to resurrect, he wants it to be the fucking paperwork. If Jackson had his way, he’d try to regulate Caesar to death.”

“S’pose he also thinks the ants give a damn about military chain of command.” Favor said, a slight grin on his face. He got up and sat next to Cass. “You mentioned this whole ant business lasting ‘until further notice.’ Got any idea how long that may be?”

“Longer than either of us have to spare.” Cass motioned to the bartender for another drink and went on. “My outfit’s losing money every hour I spend here sitting on my ass, and I doubt you want your brahmin to starve out there in that sad excuse for a pasture.”

“You got that right. I was thinkin’ maybe, you and I could–” Favor abruptly stopped when the bartender came by with Cass’ drink. He waited until she was once again cleaning glasses at the other end of the bar.

“You former NCR?” Cass noted more than asked.

“That obvious, huh?”

“You didn’t want the bartender to overhear us. That’s some pretty typical NCR fear of espionage.” Cass was quite perceptive, Favor had to hand it to her. “I promise, she doesn’t get paid enough to rat us out. If you’ve got a plan, let’s hear it.”

“Seems to me, there’s only one option. My drovers are all armed, and I can see you are, too.” He nodded toward her shotgun. “If you have any hired guards, we could use them, as well.”

She threw back half her drink. “Yeah, I’ve got two hired mercs, just as eager to get the hell out of here as I am. I think we can work something out, you and me. If you’re planning taking out those ants, I’m all for it. It’ll clear the way for us to haul ass out of here, and it’s defying Jackson’s orders. Both good things in my book.”

“We’d better have a meetin’ ‘bout this tonight, hash out the details. The sooner, the better. We’d be furthest away from the NCR’s watch if we meet at the far south side of the pasture. That puts a whole herd of brahmin between us and any guards.”

“I’d wear a brahmin disguise if it means getting my caravan moving again. I’ll meet you there, soon as the sun goes down.” That was dedication Favor could appreciate.

“Show up a little earlier and you’re welcome to join us for chuck. You and your guards.”

“I won’t refuse that offer!” Cass raised her glass. “Here’s to gettin’ back on the road.”

“I’ll drink to that. Cheers.”

–--

Upon returning to camp, Favor explained to the drovers that they’d be having a few guests join them, and that from there they’d figure out their plan of action. Even without knowing a single detail of the plan itself, this seemed to put everyone in a much better mood, with the chatter around camp turning from complaining to a far more optimistic tone.

As they had discussed, Cass and her guards showed up. Just in time for chuck, too. Introductions were brief, with both drovers and caravaners eager to get an idea of how this scheme was going to go. They were equally eager to eat. Wishbone dished out dinner, serving the guests first.

“Hope you like the mole rat stew.” Wish said as he served Cass.

“I can appreciate any hot food.” Cass said as she was handed a plate, a remark that garnered a grin from Wish. She turned to where Favor stood. “So, you tell your people about the plan yet?”

“They know the basic idea, but we haven’t gone over details, yet. Needed you here for that. Also needed more intel.” Favor paused while eating to wave Pete over. “Pete, you find out anything ‘bout that colony?”

“Yeah, they’re located little ways north of here, just east of an old rest stop. Got a pretty good idea how many there are, too. We’re lucky on a few counts. One, they ain’t fire ants, so we don’t gotta worry about gettin’ burnt to a crisp. Second, there’s only one nest with only one entrance. We get there, we can get rid of the whole bunch. The only trick’d be getting to it in the first place. They got quite the little army.”

“That’s an army we can take. Once we clear out enough ants, we’ll have to find somethin’ that’ll knock out the nest.”

“These,” With her free hand, Cass presented two small canisters. “Should do the trick. Incendiary grenades. I was planning on selling ‘em, worth about 200 caps each. But if we don’t get the road cleared, I’m not selling shit. I think it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

A worthy sacrifice indeed, Favor thought. Not much else about this seemed like much a sacrifice. A mild risk, maybe, though far less risky than so many other things they’d done in the past, all for the sake of the drive. He figured it must be that way for Cass as well.

“If we leave just before dawn tomorrow, we can get this whole thing taken care of before noon.” He said. “Everyone best get what sleep you can. Got a big day ahead of us.”

–--

Sure as the sun would rise, the drovers, Cass, and her guards were all ready and on time. Leaving just three drovers behind to watch over the herd and the caravan, the rest set out just before dawn, aiming to reach their destination when the ants wouldn’t be at their most active, and neither would the NCR. The troops would soon be raising the flag to First Call and Reveille, right around the time the group would be out of view.

At first, they stayed off the road, traversing the rocky hills beside the post itself. Although the area itself was relatively safe, with no sign of severe threats like Fiends or Legion, they had to be aware of every possibility. In this area, wild animals were the most likely threat, and the last thing they needed was to be slowed down by a pack of geckos.

With the thought of such things, Favor hated to leave so few to guard the herd. But they needed the numbers if they were to get this done and get it done quickly. Quickly, that was the key. If they were able to wipe these vermin out before the NCR could even reach them, that would be the best case scenario. No chance for the NCR to pull some absurd stunt of power and cut them off.

Not far behind Favor, Pete and Wishbone walked beside one another. Wishbone eyed the grenades clipped to Pete’s belt.

“Sure you know how to use those? Seen some mighty bad accidents come from folks not knowin’ a darn thing about explosives but usin’ ‘em anyway.”

“Got enough grenade trainin’ with the rangers.” Pete said.

“If you say so. Just, don’t try an’ throw ‘em. Drop ‘em right down into that nest. Don’t want those things wasted if you miss.”

“Wish, you ever known a Veteran Ranger to miss their target?”

“Well, no. But don’t you go and make this the first time for that!”

“There’s a record I don’t plan on settin’ any time soon.” Pete said with a smile.

As the group continued on, their target finally became visible. Distorted through the waves of heat rising from the cracked ground, they could see figures moving in the near distance: the giant ants they were after. It was hard from such a distance to gauge how many there were, but one nest usually meant no less than a few dozen outside.

The ants themselves ranged from the size of a coyote to nearly as big a car. No matter their size, they weren’t that difficult to kill on their own. They were a common sight out in the desert, usually just a small cluster that was easy enough to pick off. The nests themselves were best avoided entirely, but this one was so close it was nearly right on the road. Going around it would mean going further into dangerous territory, filled with god-only-knew what other threats. Despite the trouble Ranger Jackson’s orders had caused, it was at least somewhat understandable as to why the NCR had deemed the area too hazardous for travel.

They reached an old rest stop, just west of the location Pete had marked on the map. Favor motioned for the group to gather around and made a brief speech: “Terrain here’s flat and empty, which means we can see everyone and everythin’. Ants won’t have any way to hide, and neither will we. With how fast those things move, won’t be no chance for running away, neither. We’ll get in there, clear ‘em out, and get rid of the nest. Ready?”

With an enthusiastic affirmative from the crowd, they headed out. Adrenaline drove through them all as they first rushed out to the ants, firing as soon as they were within range. Weapons rang out across the barren landscape as they all picked off as many as they could before the insects began to get aggressive.

Once they began to catch on to their attackers, the ants moved faster than their size would suggest. Most of the drovers shot rapidly, wherever their bullets would land on the fast-moving creatures. Pete took specific aim for their antennae, a strategy that scrambled their senses and made them go into a wild frenzy, leading them to attack whatever was closest, even other ants. Tearing into one another with spiked mandibles, clicking and hissing in a blind rage.

Mushy’s aim was decent enough to emulate Pete’s strategy, which left a good path of ants attacking one another. There were still too many to get a good clearing, but it wouldn’t be long at the rate things were going.

Cass and her guards were more than doing their fair share of the work. In between reloading her shotgun, Cass seemed equally adept at clubbing the giant insects to death as she was blasting them to bits. The acidic, chemical stench of ant innards was threatening to become overwhelming, with many drovers drawing their bandannas over their faces as makeshift masks. The more ants fell, the worse the scent became, but it was well worth them nearing victory.

With everyone’s combined efforts, there was enough of a path carved for Pete to make a run for the nest. As he ran, Favor kept an eye out and covered him. A particularly large soldier ant came dangerously close to Pete, but a few shots from both Favor and Mushy’s weapons made quick work of it. Soon, he reached the nest entry point, a gravelly mound not much bigger than a small hill. The lose sediment made for a difficult climb, and behind him, Pete could hear more shots taking out ants, no doubt turning to pursue him.

The opening was just big enough for one or two ants to fit through at a time. One particularly large soldier ant took up the entire entrance, which meant its body was just enough to block the clearance he’d need. He cursed to himself, shooting the ant down. The way it fell, it still blocked part of the entry, but the longer they delayed, the more ants would surface.

With but a split second hesitation, Pete pulled the pin on the first grenade and dropped it down into the nest. He turned and ran as soon and as fast as he could; he hoped it would drop down a fair distance before going off, but there was no telling exactly how much damage the explosive would do.

The grenade went off, and although Pete was far enough away not to sustain and damage, he could feel the heat wave behind him. Gunfire still echoed from all sides, and he had to mentally tune it out as he turned to face what was left of the nest. The first grenade had blown the opening wider, which meant two things: more room for more ants to come crawling out, and more of a target.

It was time to prove his aim was as accurate as ever. He pulled the pin on the last grenade, taking a deep breath and throwing it with a few brief word or two of prayer. It felt like it took forever for it to reach its target, but once it did, it was clear it was a perfect throw.

The rest of the nest opening collapsed with a fiery boom, cutting off the one exit to the outside and flooding the underground tunnels with fire. If there were any ants left, they wouldn’t last long. The few that remained above ground were quickly picked off. It left the scenery less than pretty, with giant insect carcasses littering the small span of desert. Grotesque and the sight was, at least it finally meant safety.

Favor walked up to Pete and clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Good job, ranger.”

–--

Moving back south to the Outpost, Favor’s chest was still pounding with a mix of excitement and tiredness from the battle. It was something he had been quite used to back when he was fighting against more than just ants. It seemed a lot better now, less dire. He looked over to Cass, who gave a smile back. He wondered if she was feeling about the same way. Neither of them had an ounce of fear over however Ranger Jackson would react to this once they returned. Worst he could do was chew them out, and Favor was more than used to taking that.

Returning to the Outpost, the same two soldiers stood guard, though they appeared to have given up any attempt at military bearing, both barely concealing smiles and wide eyes as the drovers and caravaners walked past. Favor gave a slight smile back.

“Looks like you’ve got a couple of fans.” Cass said.

“Bet they’re just fans of anythin’ that’ll keep the Outpost from gettin’ too dull.” 

The officer at the front desk looked up from typing at his computer terminal. “You here to see Ranger Jackson again?” Even with his professional demeanour, there was the slightest bit of humour in his tone. “He’s in his office, and I think he’s expecting you.”

Sure enough, Ranger Jackson sat at his desk, this time not preoccupied with paperwork, but instead waiting for them. “Mr. Favor, Ms. Cassidy.”

“Sir.” Favor greeted him, but Cassidy barely gave a nod, her arms crossed.

“I’m not gonna pretend I don’t know exactly what happened. Sound travels well from the north, so the whole Outpost heard every shot. Doesn’t take top intel to figure out what you all did. Now, being civilians, I can’t exactly court martial you for disobeying orders, and frankly--”

“Oh, come on!” Cassidy said with an irritated sigh. She seemed ready to go on a rant when Jackson continued.

“ _Frankly_ , I appreciate what you did.” Favor and Cassidy looked from each other and back to Jackson. “Against orders or not, you saved the NCR a lot of time and a lot of trouble. Now that you’ve cleared out those pests, we can inspect the area, probably be able to get it declared safe before tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cassidy asked.

“Officially, yes. But, given what you all did for us here, we can make an exception, let you through right away.” He had two clearance forms already on his desk. He pushed them toward Favor and Cassidy and handed them pens. “Just make sure to put down tomorrow’s date. For the records, and all.”

“Can’t believe you’re skirting the law like this.” Cassidy said. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Oh, by the way, Ms. Cassidy, I heard a couple of grenades go off during that fight. Incendiary, from what our guards tell me. Know those don’t come cheap, especially not for someone trying to sell her wares. Turns out, we might have miscounted our own supplies. One of the new recruits probably misplaced a few somewhere by your caravan. Think they might’ve also lost a weapon repair kit or two.”

“Did they, now?” She raised an eyebrow. “Looks like I did a little bit better than break even for this detour. Guess I owe you my thanks.” She handed back her paper and with a tip of her hat, was out the door before the ink could dry.

“She’s eager to get back on the road.” Jackson said.

“Same as we are.” Favor handed back his own form. “But, not before I thank you. For not makin’ us fill out anything more than this.” He pointed to the form.

“Wouldn’t want this little incident on the record. I won’t go on record saying this either, but I truly wish we had more like you and Ms. Cassidy; folks who can really help get us out of messes like these. I guess as much as we try to bring back order and civilization, there’s still some things need doing outside of this whole NCR bureaucracy.”

“We’re all workin’ for the same goal.” With one last salute, Favor bid Ranger Jackson farewell. Making his way back to the herd, Favor looked up the road a ways and saw Cass’ Caravan already well past the gate. His outfit would follow, though there was little chance they would catch up.

Camp was already packed up and cleared away, everyone atop their radhorses, ready to go and without a second to waste. Favor rode to the front, waving toward the clear road north.

“Head ‘em up, move ‘em out!”

**Author's Note:**

> Fallout Lore Notes!
> 
> The Desert Rangers – A highly skilled faction of survivalists that later merged with the NCR. They make up like 90% of the cool boxart and imagery associated with Fallout: New Vegas, because their armour is super awesome.
> 
> Giant Ants – In the game, you have a quest where you have to clear out and kill like...8 ants. I decided to make the stakes a tiny bit higher for the drovers.
> 
> The Brotherhood of Steel – This one’s another doozy. The Brotherhood is a paramilitary group that’s all over post-war USA. One of their main goals is to recover, salvage, and preserve pre-war technology, but in practice, what they do is...usually a lot worse. The NCR kinda kicked their asses in the Mojave chapter, so within that region, the Brotherhood remains isolated and more focused on preserving what they have left. 
> 
> Frumentarii – Highly trained Legion spies


End file.
